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“I won’t beg like those two miserable assholes.” My cock is already fully erect, and I know I’m fucking lying, but fuck … I’ve never had anything like this done to me before.
Do I deserve it? Yes.
Do I hate it? I should.
But the closer she gets, the more my cock throbs, and the truth becomes too fucking hard to deny.
She has me on a leash.
Her brow playfully rises. “Won’t you?” Her fingers dive into my pants, and she slides in so deep I can feel her fingers at the tip of my length. I suck in a breath. “Because I’d love nothing more than to hear it.”
When she rubs me, I groan, unable to keep the sounds at bay.
I’ve been brimming with desire the second she started touching herself, and it’s been so fucking hard to watch and not be able to touch and lick and suck and fuck her soul out of her body.
She pulls out her hand, and my shaft still throbs.
“But let’s see how long you keep that up,” she murmurs, and she zips me down, then lowers my pants and boxer shorts until my dick bursts out, bobbing up and down, jewelry covered in pre-cum.
She touches the tip with her finger, spreading it around like it’s lube, before she gently starts to tug at me. And fuck me, I can feel it in my entire body. Raging arousal.
She jerks me off to the point where my breath picks up and sweat drops roll down my forehead … and then she stops.
My length bobs up and down again, desperate to jet its seed, but I can’t fucking do it. I’m all tied up and can’t even reach, let alone will it to come.
Fuck.
Is this what she wants? To keep me on edge like I forced her to be when I tied her to this cross?
A smile forms on my lips, and I lower my head.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’re cruel,” I reply, looking up into her eyes from underneath my lashes. “Just like me.”
“Hmm.” A smile forms on her lips, and she begins to touch me again, all the way from the beginning, slow and torturous. “And don’t you fucking love it?”
God, I can barely take it. Her fingers coil around my shaft, dipping low, before coming back up to my jewelry again, and fuck me, I could almost shoot my load right here right now.
She suddenly pulls away again, leaving me in agony.
“Fuck…” I grit.
“She’s enjoying this,” Dylan muses from his seat.
“No shit,” I retort.
“I am too,” Alistair says, still on his knees near the couch.
Penelope laughs. “A punishment fit for the crime of toying with my body because someone else told you to.”
A lopsided grin forms on my face. “Oh, I’d toy with you regardless of what anyone said.”
“I guess that’s not up to you to decide now, is it?” she says, rubbing my dick again until my entire body tenses and all my muscles begin to twitch.
Fuck. I didn’t think anything could make me snap.
But this … this kind of torture definitely could.
She leans away, leaving my cock bobbing up and down as she lies down on the bed and parts her legs, showing off her wet slit, and fuck me, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
My wrists jerk against the straps, but no matter what I do, they won’t loosen.
“You know that won’t work,” she says. “I tried, believe me.” She keeps circling her clit, like she’s trying to taunt me. “You keep watching. Eyes open.”
She tilts her head back, hair rolling over her back, body arched as she starts rubbing faster and faster. And I’m sweating from every pore in my body, struggling to fucking breathe. My fucking dick pulses with greed.
Her moans grow louder and louder, moans I wish I was giving her, but instead, I’m tied up here, forced to endure with a throbbing shaft.
“Fuck,” I groan.
She circles around and dips inside, moaning so hard the entire house can hear, and I just know she fucking came. The sound and view flips a switch inside my head.
A stifled moan leaves my throat as I jet some cum right on top of the bed.
Fuck.
I actually came without so much as a touch.
But it’s a ruined orgasm, and I’m not nearly satisfied.
“Oh … you liked that, huh?” she murmurs as she crawls across the bed and lies down, spread-eagle. “Come and get it, then.”
I jerk the straps, but they won’t release. “Untie me.”
“Untie yourself,” she says.
“What?” Dylan gasps. “We can’t do that.”
“Then try harder,” she muses.
When Ali gets up, she raises a finger. “Don’t help. Sit on the bed and wait for them while you stroke yourself mad.”
He does what she says, kneeling on the bed, still thrusting into his own hand like a maniac. And fuck me, I want to rail her face-down into the pillow until she chokes on her own saliva.
